


Heart of Stone

by SuchAFangirl



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:59:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchAFangirl/pseuds/SuchAFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Colfer has been handed the opportunity of a lifetime, to bring The Land of Stories to Broadway. A chance meeting with one of the creators of A Very Potter Musical gives him the tools he needs to make it happen. </p>
<p>Darren Criss and Chris Colfer will never be the same again once Queen Evly takes over their lives. Their world gets turned upside down and hearts will be broken, but there might be an unexpected fairytale ending besides the one they're creating for the Broadway stage.</p>
<p>Written for the CrissColfer Big Bang 2013/14. </p>
<p>Art by the talented Tayler <a href="http://innovatived.tumblr.com/post/76566387354/crisscolfer-big-bang-art-for-stephs-wonderful">(innovatived.tumblr.com)</a> who created the most perfect Playbill cover ever!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When it comes to the Hollywood dream, Darren Criss is the rule. A fresh faced, young man, full of talent, charisma, drive and dreams. Big dreams.

 

But talent is a common commodity in LA, something Darren hadn’t quite appreciated when he first set his sights on Hollywood. Six years on, all he has to show for his dream is a handful of minor roles on his acting resume and a soon-to-expire recording contract that is unlikely to ever earn him royalties.

 

So, the Hollywood dream hadn’t worked out liked he’d hoped, but still he had his friends and his music, and that was enough.

 

~*~

 

Of course there are exceptions to every rule. Chris Colfer is one of them. A very rare exception. Plucked from obscurity straight out of high school and into a starring role in the big new thing on TV. Glee was a phenomenon that opened up doors and turned his life around.

 

Chris seized every opportunity that fame gave him. About to turn 25, he’s already authored four New York Times best sellers and had a good degree of success with his own screen plays. His work on Glee has been recognized with multiple awards, none more treasured than his first Golden Globe, and now industry buzz predicted an Emmy was within reach with his recent portrayal of James Dean earning him critical acclaim.

 

Chris Colfer was the darling of Tinsel Town, the Hollywood dream come true. But there were times it felt more like a nightmare. Fame had a price, and he was beginning to wonder if it was grossly overvalued.

 

~*~

 

The thing you have to remember about the Hollywood dream is, it's all a matter of the right people and the right project coming together at the right time. That mostly comes down to luck, though in Chris and Darren's case, you might call it fate.


	2. Chapter 2

Chris entered the office of his agent, Meredith Baxter, with a nervous knot in his stomach. He had refused to discuss any business in the two months after Glee ceased filming. The wrap up events alone kept his mind too occupied to focus on his future career, but with those behind him and a month's vacation leaving him completely revitalized, he was ready to face the possibilities that lay ahead. The security of filming schedules and a regular pay check were gone, but instead he had exciting new projects and the chance to explore every creative idea his ever-working mind came up with.

 

Meredith had already fielded a few enquiries about the film rights for Land of Stories in the years since its release, but so far, none had met with Chris's approval. She promised this time it was different, that what was on offer would give Chris full creative control. He was eager to hear more, and didn't even wait for his butt to hit the seat before asking "So, Meredith, tell me this exciting news."

 

"Your first book, Chris, The Wishing Spell..." Meredith waited for Chris's nod before continuing. "Artists Associated have come to us with a very different idea. They have backers ready to invest if you're willing to give this a shot."

 

Chris's curiosity was more than piqued by the impending proposition. "Go on...." he encouraged.

 

"The Wishing Spell is rich with characters and interesting places, but between all the action and adventure, they think there's another Wicked waiting to be released." She paused to regard Chris's look of puzzlement. "It's the Queen, Chris. Evly's story is both romance and tragedy, complex and heartbreaking. It's the stuff great entertainment is made of." Her voice was excitable, and her face lit up with the enthusiasm she had always shared for Chris's book. "I don't need to tell you that fairytales have a reach that spans all generations. As Disney has proved time and again, a modern twist is all it takes to make a fairytale extremely marketable. You've created something special Chris, and they want to bring your extraordinary tale to new audiences. They want to help you turn Evly's story into a musical."

 

"They what?!?!" Chris should have seen it coming when Wicked had been mentioned, but the idea of his book being a musical had never even entered his head.

 

"Isn't that fantastic, Chris?"

 

"Yeah.... But..." Chris fell silent, too stunned to even continue his train of thought. "Wow!"

 

"They've offered a generous advance for development of the book, music and lyrics. They want you to write it. You keep full control over your story."

 

"That's better than some of the movie offers we've had," Chris noted with thoughtful consideration.

 

"That's not all though, Chris. Their offer is very generous. When it's ready for the stage, you have the option to remain involved as creative consultant."

 

"So what's the catch? There's always a catch."

 

"I've looked over the proposal and, honestly, I'm not seeing one. They put up the initial capital, and then when the show is in the black, you receive ongoing royalties. The proposal even includes a percentage of merchandise sales. It's a very fair deal. They really believe in you, Chris, and they believe in Evly."

 

"But where would I even start? I'm a writer and an actor, I don't know the last thing about composing,"

 

"They have someone in mind for the job, but they are willing to negotiate fees and rights to the music with anyone you want to work with. Who you collaborate with is up to you."

 

Chris thought about the connections he'd made through Glee. There were many talented musicians he could call on, but no one stood out as the obvious contender. "I'll have to give it all a little thought. It's a lot to take in."

 

"Take your time, they're not going anywhere for now. And while you're thinking it over, you might want to read through some of these scripts." She pushed a stack of papers toward him; at least three sizable scripts, as far as Chris could tell. "There were more, but I've weeded out the trash. These you'll need to action fairly quickly. They'd love to have you on board, but casting directors aren't all that generous with time and we've pushed it far enough with your recent vacation. You'll need to get back to me Monday. Sooner, if possible."

 

Chris eyed the stack, feeling overwhelmed with the work ahead of him. His weekend was disappearing before his eyes, and he wouldn't even be getting paid for it. "Anything else?"

 

"Nothing that can't wait. How about we meet again Monday afternoon? 3.30?"

 

"Sure."

 

Meredith dropped an inch thick envelope onto the stack of scripts. "That the Artists Associated offer if you want to have a closer look." She got up from her seat and walked around the desk, kissing Chris's cheek as he got to his feet and picked up the paperwork in his arms. "Now, you have a productive weekend. Welcome back to reality, Chris."

 

"Thanks a lot, Meredith," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. "See you Monday."


	3. Chapter 3

Chris stepped out of his blue Mercedes saloon, and onto the curb, dazzled by the sudden flash of lights that heralded his arrival almost everywhere he went. It was to be expected at restaurants like La Terrazza, the place to be seen dining in West Hollywood. It wasn't that Chris was hounded by paparazzi, but they were now a constant presence in his life, and one he'd learned to live with. This was why Chris chose to live a quiet, private life, as far as possible from the places where LA's elite and their shadowing cameras could be found. Dinner out was a rare affair. Farmers markets and a home cooked meal were far more Chris's style.

 

Unfortunately there were times when one couldn't avoid public life. A career in the spotlight meant duties and obligations to an endless list of organizations, not to mention the fans. Those events were like acting to Chris, he'd put on his game face and head out on the red carpet with his head held high, hair coiffed perfectly, wearing outfits that were precisely and pristinely assembled by stylists who cared more about those things than he did.

 

This particular early May evening was not such an event, and that's why the paparazzi caught him a little off guard. He kept his head low, running one hand through his thick, loosely swept-back hair as he passed them, never looking them in the eye or stopping to smile. He'd thrown on a simple leather jacket with a white Tee and dark denim jeans, for what was supposed to be a quiet catch up dinner with his best friend. He dodged the leading question "Chris, meeting with anyone special tonight?"

 

Ashley is very special. She’s been his best friend almost since he moved to LA and is probably the greatest love of his life to date, but that's not so good when you're a gay man. And therein lies the problem; as his professional life flourished, his personal life floundered.

 

There had been a few boyfriends over the years, but nothing that lasted. It seemed fame wore thin the deeper he got into any relationship. Be it the ever present paparazzi, the never ending speculation of gossip columnists, or just the tiring schedule of life in the spotlight, Chris was yet to find the person who could weather those trials long enough to really get to know him.

 

Without acknowledging the questioning reporters, Chris pulled open the door and escaped into the shelter of the restaurant and the understanding discretion of the maître d'.

 

“Your guest is already is waiting, Mr Colfer. Follow me please.” The maître d' wove through tables, past the central grand piano, to a roomy, quiet table at the back, out of sight of the front windows.

 

"Chris!" Ashley stood and greeted with a warm smile and an enveloping hug. "It's so good to see you."

 

"You too, Hon, I missed you," he smiled, hugging back just as enthusiastically.

 

"Now, come sit down and tell me all about that fabulous holiday of yours, and don’t leave out any of the juicy details!"

 

"There'll be plenty of time for that, and you should wait until I can give you the slide show to go with the commentary. We've got more exciting things to discuss." And with that introduction, Chris recounted his meeting with Meredith and the offer from Associated Artists.

 

"Oh my god! Chris! When you need a date for the Tonys, call me. That's the best news ever!"

 

Whether it was Ashley's excitement or the mention of the Tony Awards, Chris realized he was kidding himself. He thrived on challenges; learning new parts, developing new stories, crafting new characters to be brought to life on screen. He threw himself into everything he did one hundred percent, and it had paid huge dividends, financially, critically and professionally. There was nothing to think over, his decision was already made. He was making his musical. He just had to work out how to go about achieving it.

 

The arrival of the waiter temporarily interrupted the flow of conversation as menu's were placed before them and he took orders for drinks and detailed the specials of the day. As soon as he walked away from the table again, they pick up right where they left off.

 

"If I think about it too long, I start to get dizzy. I'm both crazy-excited for this, but scared to death at the same time." Chris's mind swam with the opportunity laid before him. Ashley was the first person he'd told, and somehow voicing it aloud made the concept all the more real.

 

As Ashley opened her menu and began to look over the choices, Chris followed her lead. In the comfortable silence, he became aware of the soft piano music playing unobtrusively in the background and in an effort to quiet his over-excited mind he focused on it, seeking solace in it and allowing himself to actually think that his Queen Evly might someday be the toast of Broadway.

 

Skilful fingers played lightly across the grand piano, careful to keep the melody gentle and flowing, despite the harsh pop tempo of the song's original version. The tenor's rich vocals sang over the long intro "Baby, how was I supposed to know," the warm timbre of his voice carrying the melody over the piano accompaniment to the half listening ears of the diners.

 

For three years Darren Criss had been weaving his magic on the patrons of La Terrazza restaurant. They lingered long into the night, not wanting to leave the warmth provided by his musical talents and the rich aromas of good Italian food. Soft ambient music washed down generous plates of ravioli and made the wine flow as free as the conversation. As the night slipped by each customer's tab climbed higher - another bottle of wine, the decision to stay for dessert and then coffee. Along with it, tips would slowly fill the large bowl that sat on the piano's edge.

 

Darren's contribution to La Terrazza's rising success was well recognized by the owner, Julio. La Terrazza's profits had never been better, it was impossible to be seated without a booking and the price per plate had climbed higher over the years since Darren had started playing there. The clientele had changed over that time too, word of mouth is the best advertisement, and Hollywood's A-listers were frequently amongst their patrons. It was a mutually beneficial partnership in which Darren delighted diners with his warm brand of dinnertime entertainment, and ended the night walking away with generous tips and a wage that matched the owner's appreciation for the impact Darren's presence had on his business.

 

Darren loved his job and the artistic freedom afforded to him by Julio. He played an enjoyable game with his audience, breaking pop tunes down to the simpler structure of adult contemporary, swing or smooth jazz, and observed as elderly socialites, high profile executives and the who's who of Hollywood drank in the eclectic playlist that covered Radiohead to The Beatles and, in this instance, Britney Spears. The part he loved the best was waiting for recognition to dawn on them and seeing the delighted surprise as they put two and two together. That moment was coming right up... "My loneliness is killing me...."

 

Chris smiled, mouthing the words to the song as he debated the virtues of spinach and ricotta cannelloni vs. chicken and pine nut ravioli in a creamy mushroom sauce. He admired the talent of the musician who seemed to have everyone in the room eating out of the palm of his hand, not to mention the adoration of a few young ladies who were gazing dreamily at him from the bar.

 

"I like this place. Great choice, Ash.”

 

~*~

 

The night wound on with Ashley finishing off the lion's share of the bottle of red wine that Chris had ordered. They finished the meal with tiramisu and were just about to enjoy a coffee together before calling it a night. The crowd was dwindling around them with less than half the tables still occupied, and the waiters had begun setting up the empty tables for business the following day.

 

The musician who had played through the night returned to the piano for his final set. "Now if you'll indulge me, I'd like to play a few songs of my own. This is something I like to do for my last set of the evening, I figure you're either drunk enough that you'll love them, or I'll clear the house and all my friends here..." he waved to a few of the waiters in the room, "will get to go home on time. Either way it's win, win."

 

Chris joined in the light chuckles that could be heard around the room. "This should be interesting," he said to Ashley. "If his own songs don't stack up to the rest of tonight's performance, we could always have coffee back at my place."

 

"Deal," Ashley replied. "But once I'm on your sofa, don't think you'll move me until tomorrow."

 

"Can I ever?" came Chris's retort just as the musician played the opening chords of his song.

 

Soon, a strong clear voice, a little more Rock-and-Roll than the smooth jazzy voice of earlier, sang over the notes of the piano. _"I've been alone, surrounded by darkness..."_

 

Chris listened. The tune and lyrics were vaguely familiar, like something he'd heard many years before, but couldn't place. "Ash, do you know this?"

 

"No. Never heard it."

 

"I swear I've heard this before. Maybe I'm going crazy."

 

"Now where would you have heard it before. It's his own song. Maybe it sounds similar to something else."

 

"Yeah, you're right. That must be it." Chris continued to listen, still unable to shake that sense of familiarity, yet unable to make a definite link, even as the song ended. Their coffees had arrived and Chris cradled the warm cup in his hands. "I think he passed the test. The sofa will have to wait, Ash."

 

"Fine by me, this cappuccino is to die for," she grinned, tacking a large sip and licking the chocolaty froth from her lips.

 

As the musician began his next song, " _I've seen her face, I know her name_ ," Chris once again had the same immediate familiarity with the song, only this time, lines and phrases were coming to him more clearly. He began to sing along with the lyrics, surprising even Ashley who had been so dismissive the first time.

 

"You actually know this?"

 

"Yes. Only I swear it should be sung by a woman. You don't suppose he's ripping off someone else's work, do you?"

 

"In L.A.? That'd be career suicide."

 

Chris listened intently, still mouthing the words along with the musician, instinctively replacing She with He every single time.

 

"This is so weird!" Ashley muttered as her best friend sang along to a song that sounded completely foreign to her own ears.

 

As the music built up to the chorus, Chris had his light bulb moment. "Harry!"

 

"What?"

 

"A Very Potter Musical."

 

"OK, babe. You're gonna have to slow this down and explain it to me like I'm a two year old. What are you talking about?"

 

"The songs, they're from an internet musical I watched years ago."

 

"And you think he stole them?"

 

Chris looked at the musician, only seeing the back of his head from where they sat, but there was no mistaking the mop of dark curls once that he'd made the connection. "No, he wrote them all right, and I think I just found the composer I need for my own musical. " He sent his friend a deeply guilty look, "Ash?"

 

"Oh god, what?" She rolled her eyes, already knowing what was coming.

 

"Would you mind if I put you in a cab?"

 

"Oh, I see how it is. You're ditching me for a velvet voice and mad composing skills. Chris, I thought I meant more to you than that." She swatted his arm playfully across the table.

 

"You do! And that's why I'm gonna make you breakfast in the morning and tell you all about it." His grin was cheeky, but his eyes were pleading and honest.

 

Ashley had no defense, but she'd never openly admit that Chris had her wrapped around his finger. "You drive a hard bargain, Colfer, but you've convinced me."

 

They finished their coffees and settled payment for their meal then Chris walked Ashley out to the street to get a cab. The paparazzi were gone and it was a quick and easy task to hail one and send Ashley on her way home.

 

Chris made his way back into the restaurant just as the musician was saying his goodbyes.

 

"Well, thanks for listening, everyone. I'm Darren Criss, playing exclusively here every Friday, Saturday and Sunday night. I hope to see you all again real soon." With playful eyes he worked the room, making every one of the remaining diners feel like they'd just been issued a personal invitation. "And remember this enormous goblet on the piano is for you to show your appreciation. Cash, gold and bar credits are cheerfully accepted. Thank you, and goodnight." With a wave, he stepped down from the small stage that had been his home for most of the evening and headed to the bar.

 

"Can I help you with anything else, Mr Colfer?" the maître d' asked.

 

"Oh...n n no," he stammered, caught by surprise and suddenly realizing he was still standing in the doorway. "I actually just wanted a word with your musician before I go."

 

"Be my guest. You're welcome to stay while we finish up for the night," and he gestured to the bar where Darren had claimed a position and was chatting with the barmen.

 

Chris approached the stool nearest Darren, assessing the proximity of it and obsessively over-analyzing the personal space etiquette that would be required of such an impromptu business meeting. He dragged the stool over a few inches making an uncomfortably loud screech across the terracotta tiled floor. Darren's head snapped up in Chris's direction, clearly startled.

 

"Sorry about that. Not exactly the first impression I wanted to make." He smiled apologetically. He sat himself onto the stool and made himself comfortable with Darren watching on curiously. "Hi, I'm Chris," he finally said, offering his hand to shake.

 

Darren returned the gesture with a firm, friendly grasp. "Darren. And I know who are. We could have been boyfriends, you know?"

 

It was not the response Chris expected at all. "Huh?"

 

"Blaine," Darren continued. "I tried out for the part of Blaine, once upon a time. Seems like eons ago now. In retrospect, I should have had the haircut." He pulled his mane of curls back from his face, and Chris took a moment to appraise the immediate effect; Darren's jaw line appeared much stronger, and his eyes caught the light, reflecting a thousand golden hues. Chris's thoughts faltered for a second, lost in the stunning difference. "I'd have looked good in that blazer, don't you think?"

 

Chris tried to produce a witty answer, but words refused to form themselves on his tongue. Instead he nodded and managed to squeeze out a simple "Mmmmmm."

 

Thankfully Darren didn't notice Chris's verbal paralysis and continued his story, hardly missing a beat. "I spent all of college growing out my private school hair, I just wasn't ready to part with it." He dropped his hands and the curls fell back around his face, and once more the familiar face of "Harry" was before Chris, and he regained his composition.

 

"Actually, it was the hair that made you recognize you... Harry. Well, that and the songs."

 

Darren looked at him wide eyed. "You know Starkid?"

 

"I wouldn't be worth my salt as a Harry Potter fan if I didn't. Though half an hour ago, I didn't even know your real name. Those musicals were a riot!"

 

"Well, thank you. Wow!" Darren seemed a little dumbstruck. "You know, you're the first industry person I've met who has actually watched them."

 

"Loved them! That Voldermort and Quirrel stuff.... Genius!"

 

"Well, I can't take credit for that idea, but it was good, wasn't it." Darren chuckled fondly, his affection for the show and his Starkid friends clear for all to see.

 

"It really was. I can't remember how many times I watched the first one that summer. Those were the days when I still had time to myself and trawling the Internet was a great way to kill an afternoon."

 

Darren didn't miss the almost reverent way that Chris spoke of his time before being thrust into the spotlight. "Those days are here again, yes? Now that Glee's over? "

 

Instantly the small spec of nostalgia or sadness that Darren had detected was gone. "Oh god, no. Now the real work begins. Which is why I'm talking to you."

 

"Ok?" Darren leaned forward with interest, wondering why Chris Colfer might possibly have business with him.

 

"Well, you see," Chris began, "I've been given an opportunity to turn one of the books I've written into a musical. It will be about the Evil Queen, the one from Snow White."

 

"You write? Where the fuck did you find time for that?"

 

Chris laughed. "Yes, I write. I've written four books actually, all while I was working on Glee."

 

"Kudos, man. That's amazing!"

 

The surprising thing to Chris was that Darren was being completely sincere with his praise. Too often he was met with the assumption that he was cashing in on his Glee fame, an assumption that hurt and belittled the effort he put into his stories. He was touched by Darren's warm reception. "Thank you," he said with slightly coy smile and a warm blush high on his cheeks.

 

"So where exactly do I fit in here?" Darren asked, wondering if he might be offered a little piece work that would grant him a few added luxuries.

 

"I'm a writer, an actor, and some may say a singer, but I can't write a whole musical, Darren. I was hoping that might be where you come in?"

 

"So what do you need from me? A couple of tunes? Some help with scoring?" He didn't dare to dream that Chris might actually need him for more when he had so many connections in the music industry.

 

"I was thinking you'd do the full score. Music. Some of the lyrics, or most of them probably... I don't know how these things work." Chris wandered off on a tangent as he properly considered the process for the first time. "And all the in between stuff, too," he finished with a wave of his hand, as if that explained everything.

 

Darren looked at him disbelievingly. "Now let me get this right... you want me, Darren Criss, failed actor and mediocre musician, to take your baby and help you turn it into a musical?"

 

"No!" Darren visibly slumped at Chris's word, knowing it was too good to be true. "I want you, Darren Criss, talented composer and creator of show-stopping catchy numbers, to take my beloved Evly and help me show the world how totally awesome she is!"

 

"Wow! You really did spend the summer on YouTube, didn't you?"

 

"I really did. And I loved every minute of it." Chris sat back, happy to have gotten his offer out, and pretty sure that Darren was, at the very least, interested. "Look, you don't have to give me an answer now. Give me your email address, I'll send you the story and you can take a look. I've already got backers and there's an advance for the development work. If you're interested in the job, I can get you a copy of the contract."

 

Darren tried to play cool, but the shit-eating grin on his face was a giveaway nonetheless. "Sure," he replied as he grabbed a pen from behind the bar and scribbled his email down on the back of a coaster. "Send it my way, and I'll take a look." He slid the coaster across the bar top toward Chris.

 

Chris reached for the pen, and copied Darren's tactic, writing his mobile number down on another coaster. "And when you're done, give me a call." He hadn't meant it to, but the sentence fell from his lips with a slightly flirty air. Darren had a disarming way about him, and already Chris knew there was no one else he'd be happier working with, so long as Darren kept his hair in his face, disguising those distracting eyes.

 

"Thanks, man! I look forward to meeting this Queen of yours."

 

The lights in half of the restaurant suddenly turn off, which made Chris acutely aware that he and Darren were holding the other staff members up. "I guess that's my cue to go."

 

"Yeah, they don't mess around at the end of the day. It's pretty exhausting being on your feet all night, they're either ready for bed, or a well earned drink."

 

"And who am I to stop them?"

 

"You're Chris Colfer, Emmy award winning actor. Successful author, too, I hear."

 

"Don't forget future Tony recipient!"

 

"Of course, but I get to keep it alternate weeks." Darren returned without skipping a beat.

 

"Of course," Chris replied with a good natured laugh. "Goodnight, Darren. I'll go home and send you that email."

 

"Goodnight, Chris. I look forward to it."

 

They parted as they began, with a handshake, though this time with smiles that were wider and truly heartfelt, and their warm grasp speaking of newfound friendship and a shared enthusiasm for the future.


	4. Chapter 4

To: "Darren Criss"

From: "Chris Colfer"

Subject: Land of Stories

Attachment: TLOS-TWS.pdf

 

Hi Darren,

Thanks again for taking a look at this for me. You don't need to read the whole book, the tale you need is all in chapter 20, Heart of Stone. You'll see the basic outline is all there, but I have a lot of work to flesh it out into a book musical. There'll be changes that need to be made, some things embellished, others simplified and perhaps I need to soften some of Evly's evil deeds (even anti-heroines need to be somewhat likeable).

You'll see that Mira is a poet and there are a few of his verses in the book, but there are a thousand more in my mind that I see becoming the lyrics to some of the songs. Other than that, I'll leave the song-writing to you. Bring your A game, Darren, I'm imagining an opening number more epic than Gotta Get Back To Hogwarts (I might have come home and reacquainted myself with your YouTube channel).

No pressure though. Take your time, think about it and let me know. I think we'd work brilliantly together.

Chris :)

 

 

Darren had meant to get some sleep that night, really he did, but true to Chris's word, he must have gone home and sent the email immediately because Darren's phone chimed with the alert the moment he stepped through his door.

 

He settled into bed with his head supported by a cluster of pillows and his iPad propped up against his raised knees, then opened chapter 20 and began to read from the first mention of the Evil Queen. Within the first two pages he knew exactly why it had been optioned as a musical. By the end of the chapter the Queen had captured and broken his heart all at once and he knew he had to have a hand in bringing her to life.

 

Darren flicked back to the beginning of the book and proceeded to read. Chris had created a world so full of color, feeling and pure imagination, that there seemed to be no end to it. Each chapter revealed more layers and more surprises to the fairytales that were so familiar. It amazed and moved him, and he could already tell that whatever they created together, it would be effortless and exciting. "Magical," he muttered to himself, bringing his semi-conscious thoughts out to meet the cool spring night.

 

The sun had just broken over the hilltops that surrounded the city, and the first rays of light were creeping through his window as Darren reached the final page. With the twins, Conner and Alex, safely reunited with their mother and a promise of more adventures to come, he finished the book and looked at the time. It was nearly 6am, and every cell of his body itched with the need to call Chris and confirm the deal. Instead he shot off a short email that simply read "I'm in!"

 

Darren tried to rest then, laying his head on the pillow, closing his eyes and making attempts to clear his over-working mind. Snippets of music, images of costumes and props, and lines of songs began to form in his head and they would not stop. At first he let them drift over him, allowing the creativity to unfold as it often does on the edge of slumber. But the music became louder, single lines began to turn into verses, and a heart of stone, ruby red and clear as perfect crystal, demanded attention. Darren finally gave up on the idea of sleep to jot down the ideas that came in tremendous waves like a hurricane sea, stopping only when the ping of a new email broke the flow almost two hours later.

 

Without even opening it (it was from Chris, that was all he needed to know) he picked up his phone and dialed the numbers printed neatly on the back of the coaster.

 

"Hello?" answered a voice, deeper than Darren had remembered from the night before.

 

"Hi, is that Chris?"

 

He heard the clearing of a throat and then Chris's true voice rang out, "Darren?"

 

"Yes! I know it's early, but I couldn't wait to talk to you." He began a rambling monologue, finally able to voice everything he'd felt as he read through the night. "I loved your book. It's brilliant. I can see why they chose Evly for this, but honestly, every idea, every character, the clever way you wove all those tales into one magical world. It was incredible!"

 

"You read the whole thing?"

 

"I couldn't put it down!"

 

"Wow." Chris replied breathily. "I'm flattered."

 

"Listen, Chris, I've been awake for almost 24 hours, and I'm not going to get any sleep until I have the chance to talk over some of my ideas with you. Have you got time today?"

 

"Sure. I have a few scripts I need to look over, so I'll be home all day. I'll text you my address."

 

The need to get his ideas out into the open had taken on a real sense of urgency. "Is now too early? I mean, I still have to shower, but I'll be ready in about half an hour."

 

Chris laughed. Darren seemed almost manic, and he wasn't sure if it was because of excitement or sleep deprivation. "That's fine. Whenever." Just as he was about to hang up, he remembered something. "Oh, wait! I promised my friend breakfast. Shit!"

 

"Oh." Darren sighed with audible disappointment.

 

"No. Come! I'll make pancakes for all three of us. She'll understand. Ash is my biggest cheerleader, and I'm sure she'd love to meet you."

 

"Oh, okay then. If you're sure." It was almost a question, reluctantly giving Chris an out if he needed it.

 

"I'm sure. See you soon, Darren. Pancakes will be ready at nine, don't be late or there might not be any left for you."

 

"I'll be there. See ya, Chris."

 

It was the shortest shower Darren had ever had in his life.

 

~*~

 

Darren and Ashley pulled up to Chris's house at the same time. She greeted him with an exuberant wave. "Hello! I'm guessin' this means you're gonna be working with my man?"

 

Darren smiled widely. "You bet it does. Chris's story is amazing and I'm totally in love already."

 

"Really?" Ash asked suspiciously.

 

"No, no. Not like that. With the book, and the queen, and... everything really. I mean, Chris seems great and all, but I'm more of a ladies' man, if you catch my drift."

 

"Brilliant. Then I think we'll get along just fine," she smiled, linking her arm through his as she lead him to the front door. She didn't bother knocking, just opened the door and waltzed right in as if it was her own place. "Colfer! We're here!"

 

"In the kitchen," came a partially echoed reply from deeper in the house.

 

Darren couldn't help but admire Chris's home, furnished in a simple, comfortable style that was masculine and understated. It was easily four times the size of the apartment he shared with Joey, and in a far better location, but there were none of the lavish displays of wealth that Darren had seen in other Hollywood homes (always as the entertainment, never as a guest).

 

Ashley pulled him through the hall out to the back of the house where a large kitchen/dining room overlooked a pristine, modern garden. "Hey," Chris greeted them with a wave of the spatula in his hand. "Good timing, guys, there's a stack in the oven, and I'm just cooking the last batch. Ash, could you get the plates?"

 

Ashley stepped into the kitchen, moving around Chris and collecting plates, cutlery and glasses and placing them all out on the island bench. "Darren, make yourself useful while I get everything else we need," she instructed, pointing to the unset table. As he followed her orders, he continued to watch the dynamic between the two friends, Ashley moving around Chris's home as if she lived there, and Chris completely comfortable in letting her. "Chris, did you get more juice?"

 

"Of course, it's in the door of the refrigerator." He then turned to Darren and volunteered the information he'd been curious about since arriving. "Ash practically lives here on the weekends. If I don't have her juice, I'd never hear the end of it."

 

"Awwww. Tell the truth," she defended herself, "you'd be living the life of a hermit if it weren't for me."

 

"She's right," Chris conceded. "Love you, Ash." He said as he placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

 

"Love you, too, Sweetcheeks," she said as placed a firm smack across his ass. Darren's eyes lingered just long enough to catch that she playfully squeezed his ass cheek. Interesting relationship, he thought.

 

They sat down together at the table and helped themselves to Chris's perfect pancakes and lashings of maple syrup. "These are awesome, Chris," Darren practically moaned between mouthfuls. "Is there anything you can't do?"

 

"Keep a boyfriend?" Chris offered, jokingly. Though Darren knew well that it was the sort of joke that had too much painful truth beneath, just as he had joked about being an out-of-work actor for the past 5 years.

 

"Who needs a boyfriend when you have the ever delightful Ashley," the bubbly girl declared, blowing her own trumpet and making light of the comment.

 

"And Brian." Chris added, grateful for Ashley jumping in and saving what could have been an awkward moment.

 

"Who is Brian?" Darren asked.

 

"My cat. You'll meet him later, he's not an early riser... unlike some." He stared pointedly at Darren.

 

"I resent that! I haven't even been to sleep yet, so you can't say I'm an early riser."

 

"Touché. I'll let that go this time Darren, though 6 a.m. emails better not become a thing."

 

"Noted! Are you putting that in the contract?"

 

"Let's call that one an unwritten rule. No communication before 7 a.m in future."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Ooooo!" Ashley noted with delight, "You'll go far with that attitude, Darren." She held her hand to the side of her mouth in a mock hidden whisper to Chris, "I like this one, he can stay."

 

When breakfast was over, Ashley got up to clear the table. "You two talk business, I'll take care of the dishes," she said with a wink.

 

"Thanks, Ash," the two said in unison.

 

"So," Chris started, "what did you think?"

 

"Well, firstly, you're right about Evly, you'll need to soften some of her deeds. Perhaps remove the part about killing Snow White's mother, and perhaps take out the murderous intent in her efforts to get rid of Snow White. Who's to say she didn't mean for her to just fall asleep all along?"

 

"And I have this fabulous idea to carry the passage of time as Mira grows weaker, Snow White more beautiful, and the queen more desperate. I can almost hear it in my head," he closed his eyes and started waving his arms as if conducting an orchestra, " three melodies working individually, but in perfect harmony with each other. They'll weave in and out, each peaking at a different moment, telling three separate stories and making everyone feel the Queen's heart break at losing the one she loves. It will be our Defying Gravity moment."

 

"Wow. Sleep deprivation really agrees with you." Chris grinned, leaning forward, closer to Darren. "I love those ideas, what else?"

 

"Evly's heart. I know it's supposed to be made of stone and look very much like a real heart, but I imagine a huge, heart shaped ruby. Think of how eye catching that would be, and with stage lights shone through it, it could really become a focus point at crucial moments of the story." The pitch and volume of Darren's voice increased as he went on, his own excitement getting the better of him.

 

"Hmmm. I see what you mean. And what about the ending?"

 

"Well, that one's for you. This could be another great theatrical tragedy, like Sweeney Todd or West Side Story, or you could add a little magic and give people an uplifting fairytale ending. You know, Wicked should have been a tragedy; both Fiyero and Elpheba died in Gregory MacGuire's novel. I think you should wait. See how Evly develops and then decide the ending she most deserves."

 

"That's great advice. I'd been worried about that. Also, though I hate to do it, I just don't think the twins belong in this story."

 

"They're a minor detail. Though I really do love them. If they go, you really need to work some of Conner's dry humor into another character."

 

"Easily done, they were probably the simplest parts for me to write." Chris started looking around, as if searching for something. "Just wait a minute, will you? I think I need to start writing these things down," and he got up and ran out of the room, only to return a few minutes later with a handful of pens, two notebooks and a stack of sticky notes. "I know this looks crazy, but there's method to my madness."

 

"He's been telling me that for years," Ashley called over from behind the kitchen bench, "though I'm still yet to see any real evidence that this madness is in any way methodical. I call it Chris's chaos."

 

"How do you like to work, Darren?" Chris asked with sudden interest.

 

"In my head mostly, and tinkering with my keyboard or guitar until I get it to sound like it does in mind. Then I'll write it down. Sometimes when inspiration strikes, and it's always at the oddest times or inconvenient places, I'll just hum a few bars into my phone so I can remember them later."

 

"Great!" Ashley called out once again. "So between the two of you, there'll be even more chaos." Darren looked between Chris and Ashley who were having a silent conversation across the room. "Fine," Ashley declared in a defeat unknown to Darren, "but he has to take turns in paying for the pizza."

 

"What pizza?" Darren asked, desperate to be included in whatever was going on.

 

"Whenever I get so wrapped up in writing that I forget to stop and eat, Ashley comes over and force feeds me pizza."

 

"Is that how do you want to do this, Chris? Working together from scratch? Or do you want to get the book sorted before we start discussing the music?"

 

"I was thinking we'd work together. Feed off of each other's ideas, let the music and the book develop organically."

 

"Organically?" Darren smiled. "I like the sound of that."

 

"We could work here. I've got plenty of room."

 

"Better than working at my cramped apartment with my roommate, Joey, hanging around. I can do most of the work with just my keyboard. I'll bring it over."

 

"Too easy! Look, here's the contract I was given," Chris said, pushing it across the table to Darren. "It covers the advance, and we'll split that 50/50. Once we've got a musical to show them, you're free to negotiate any royalties and rights with the backers directly. My agent has looked it over and thinks it's a fair deal. I'm sure they'd be equally fair to you.

 

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of contracts," Darren replied, giving the contract back to Chris. "Been screwed over once, and that was one time too many," he explained. "I trust you though, Chris. So let's make a gentleman's deal on half of the advance, and we'll cross the other bridge when we're done." He held out his hand to seal the deal with a handshake.

 

Chris laughed. "Just like Frankie and Bob in Jersey Boys," and shook his hand in agreement. "Can you start tomorrow?"

 

"Sounds like a plan!"


	5. Chapter 5

On Monday morning Darren arrived at a reasonable hour with his keyboard, as promised. It was larger than Chris had anticipated and they spent the first two hours of the day rearranging Chris's house to take over the largest room available as their combined work space. Sofas, desks, and coffee tables were shuffled between the study and Chris's former lounge room, and when they were done, it was almost time for lunch.

 

"Shall we head out and get something to eat?" Darren asked. "I've really worked up an appetite."

 

"Do you mind if we just eat here? It's not so easy to just step out to lunch when there's always someone there trying to take your picture."

 

Darren looked at him with pity. "Of course."

 

"No, don't give me that look. It's fine. I just have to be in the right frame of mind. Right now I'm hot and sweaty, and that's no way to be caught by the paps. Particularly not with a man who looks equally disheveled," he pointed to Darren's appearance, T shirt creased and a little sweaty from the exertion of their morning's activities.

 

Darren laughed. "I don't know, a little scandal could be good for my career," he said in jest.

 

Through lunch, they talked more about the ideas they'd had over the weekend and were soon lost in conversation as they brainstormed potential changes to the plot until they had it all worked out from beginning to end. "So, she'll throw the heart of stone at the empty mirror and it will shatter and fall from the wall, engulfing her." Chris recapped excitedly. "And then on the other side, Mira will give Evly her heart and..."

 

"They all lived happily ever after." Darren cut in. "Perfect!"

 

"It's not too cliché?"

 

"Are you kidding me? That's an amazing ending. Dramatic and tragic, but then magical and beautiful. I dare anyone to leave with dry eyes."

 

"There's your first challenge! Write me a song, Darren. Of love. And eternity. I need to see those tears."

 

"Your wish is my command." Darren said as he got up from the table.

 

"Good grief! Is that the time?" Chris exclaimed as he saw the illuminated display on the microwave oven. "Shit! I have to be at my agent's in half an hour!"

 

"Hey, don't worry. We'll pick up where we left off, tomorrow."

 

"Do you think you could let yourself out? I'd better go and shower."

 

"Sure thing. See ya tomorrow, Chris."

 

Chris waved goodbye as he climbed the stairs to get ready for his appointment. "See ya," he called back over his shoulder.

 

~*~

 

"What do you mean you don't want any of the parts?"

 

"I mean I don't want any of them. I'm going to do the musical, Meredith, and I'm going to give it everything I've got until it's ready."

 

"Oh, thank god! I thought you were turning into a difficult diva on me."

 

"Never. I just need the time to devote to my own project for a while, without other distractions."

 

"Understood. I'll let them know." She smiled at him. "I'm glad you made that choice, Chris. It's an amazing offer. Shall we go over the contract?" She flicked silently through the first few pages. "What about the composer? Will you go with their suggestion?"

 

"Actually, I've found my own. We've already started on it."

 

Meredith looked surprised. "Already?"

 

"I've seen his work before, and he's exactly what I need to bring Evly to life. He loves her just as much as I do."

 

"That's done then. I'll have them draw up another contract for..... Who it is, Chris?"

 

"Darren. Darren Criss. That's spelled C R I S S. But a contract isn't necessary. Just take the full advance, and halve whatever is left after you've taken your usual fee."

 

"Chris, as your agent, it would be negligent for me not to remind you of the dangers of entering into this kind of project without a contract."

 

"Relax, Meredith." Chris waved his hand dismissively at her. "It's fine. Evly is my baby, and I wouldn't do anything to put her in danger. Trust me."

 

"Once we get to copywriting though, I want a contract. Agreed?" She looked at him sternly and her tone implied that this was not a matter for negotiation.

 

"Ok. Fine."

 

"Good. Now sign here," she placed her pen tip to the contract indicating where Chris was to sign, "and I'll get the checks to you by the end of the week."

 

~*~

 

It really was as easy as that.

 

On Tuesday morning, just after 8, Darren knocked on Chris's door, and so began the routine for the week. Darren would arrive somewhere between 8 and 9, Chris would have a hot pot of tea ready, and they'd start the day in the kitchen with their hands wrapped around their warm cups, sharing fresh ideas they'd come up with over night.

 

By Thursday, they had defined their key characters, determined roles for their chorus members, refined the main plot, and re-developed the treatment for Snow White and The Enchantress to suit the new adaptation. Darren had a clear picture where songs were needed, who was going to deliver them, and the tone of the piece. They were ready to get onto the task of actually writing the musical.

 

"This seems like a good place to stop for tonight, don't you think?" Darren asked. "We can begin the real work tomorrow."

 

"I thought you were at the restaurant tomorrow?"

 

"I am, but I don't start until six."

 

"You need some down time, Darren. I'm declaring Fridays our day off. Go enjoy your weekend. Take your girlfriend out, get your laundry done."

 

"Maybe if I had a girlfriend, I wouldn't actually need to do laundry." Darren dead-panned.

 

"Darren! With an attitude like that, it's no wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

 

"Hey, I was kidding! About the laundry anyway. But my inability to hold onto a girl for longer than a month is kind of legendary. Sad but true." He screwed up his face into an over exaggerated pout.

 

Chris laughed. "And I can see that you're really cut up about it."

 

"I make do," he grinned mischievously. But the truth was, Darren wouldn't mind some steady company.

 

"Get going then. I'll see you Monday."

 

"You ok with my keyboard staying here for the time being?"

 

Chris looked at him as if he were nuts. "Of course."

 

And with that, Darren collected his notes and the beginnings of his score.

 

"Don't forget this," Chris said, passing a check to Darren for his share of the advance.

 

Darren looked at it, overwhelmed by the number of zeros. "Are you fucking kidding me? This is more money than I make in a year!"

 

"Yeah, well don't blow it all at once then." Chris warned.

 

"Seriously, Chris," he said, lowering his voice, stepping closer, and looking him directly in the eyes. "Thank you for this. Work has never been so much fun."

 

Chris squirmed a little under Darren's close attention. The intensity of his eyes as they held Chris's left him feeling stripped bare. Nervously, he made light of the situation the best he knew how. "Considering you sing for a living, I'll take that as a compliment."

 

Darren smiled. "You should," he nodded and stepped forward, pulling Chris into a warm hug which took him by surprise. "See ya Monday, Chris."

 

Chris hugged him back, with a firm pat across his back. "Goodbye, Darren."

 

~*~

 

The following week started with their customary pot of tea, bright and early on Monday morning. "So, what did you get up to this weekend?" Chris asked as he poured the tea into two identical cups.

 

"I worked and I slept. Pretty tragic, hey? I'll do better next weekend. I promise." He held his hand aloft as if making an oath.

 

"I'm not one to judge. The supermarket is as far as I ventured this weekend."

 

"Pathetic!"

 

"Shhhhhhh. I don't need you on my case, too."

 

"Fine. The topic of our sad pathetic lives is off the agenda. Time to get to work," Darren ordered, putting his cup in the sink and heading off to their makeshift music room.

 

Chris followed, still with a half full cup of tea in his hands. "So, you're ready to do this?"

 

"What? Make beautiful music together?" And then Darren winked at him. An honest to god, fleeting, but definitely flirty wink.

 

"Exactly!" He replied, meeting Darren's eyes. An arching eyebrow and a mischievous smile let Darren know he was okay with Darren's flirty nature.

 

And so the process began.

 

Chris and Darren worked through each day, focusing at on their individual tasks, and coming together whenever needed. Darren sat at his keyboard, willing melodies to leave the recesses of his mind and find their way to his fingers. Every now and then he'd stop to scratch out a few notes onto the empty staff lines on the page. Chris took to his laptop, bringing the story to life one scene at a time, developing the dialogue and characterizations he and Darren had discussed in their first week. The rhythmic tap of Chris's typing became a steady accompaniment to the unsure notes of Darren's formative tunes. They quickly grew accustomed to the combination, finding their own personal cacophony a calming reminder of their shared goal and passion.

 

Every now and then they'd stop to ask one another questions, test an idea, or just check on the other's progress. Darren was happy to be part of a creative team once again, and for the first time, Chris was experiencing the excitement of a collaborative effort, enjoying the way they seemed to feed each other's ideas. It was an environment in which they both thrived.

 

Days and weeks flew by that way. Ashley would drop in frequently, still finding the two of them working happily into the evening, and calling an intervention more than once to get them to stop and eat. "Look, I love that you're both so wrapped up in this, but creative juices do not have calories," became her catch cry.

 

The thing was, at no point did any of it seem like work for either Chris or Darren. It was fun and invigorating, and the further they got into it, the more thrilling it became. Their creation took shape effortlessly. Every day, Evly and Mira became more and more real, until they were living, breathing people who invisibly shared their workspace. They had voices, personalities, dreams and troubles.

 

Ashley was the first to notice the changes in Chris. He was relaxed, happier and laughing more than he had in all the time she'd known him. He'd always been enthused in his books and screenplays, but it usually manifested in Chris being focused and so driven that no one dared approach him if he was within two feet of his laptop.

 

Darren's working style should have been an infuriating disruption to Chris's routine, but it didn't seem to bother him. If Darren had a block, he'd switch tack completely and start singing pop tunes, and Chris would hum along or even stop altogether and join in. If Darren needed a change of scenery he would drag Chris away from their cave (as Darren called it at such times) and out to the sushi place down the street for lunch, or into the back yard for an impromptu picnic. It was chaotic and free spirited, much like Darren himself, and surprisingly, Chris went along with it all, perfectly happy.

 

And that's how Ashley knew. Her friend was falling, and hard. She went home and stocked her freezer with Ben and Jerry's.


	6. Chapter 6

It was the Wednesday of their fourth week together that everything changed. It started like every other day, with tea. Darren was humming a few new bars of the song he'd been working on, and Chris voiced aloud his ideas for the next scene. Most days, Chris's house was a sanctuary where they could work completely uninterrupted. But on this day, the interruptions started at nine and continued through the day.

 

First it was a delivery. Chris left the plain cardboard box on the floor in the entry hall. "You're not gonna open it?" Darren inquired. He was always one to tear open the box the minute he got it.

 

"I know what it is. It can wait," Chris replied dismissively.

 

Then it was Chris's phone, buzzing every fifteen minutes with an incoming text or notification. By eleven, Darren was completely distracted and curious to the point of insanity.

 

Finally it was the loud ring of a phone in the hallway (Darren didn't even know Chris had a land line) and the click of the answering machine that ended it all. A chorus of voices rang out loud from the speaker and echoed through the house. Chris got up and practically ran to the phone, but not before Darren had heard the first unmistakable refrain of Happy Birthday.

 

Chris was quiet for a while, obviously letting his chorus finish their song, then his hushed voice spoke an emotional thank you and quiet apologies were delivered with excuses of work and deadlines. Darren tuned out to the rest of the conversation until he heard a final, "Bye Mom. I love you, too.

 

Chris walked back into the room a little coyly. "Sorry about that."

 

"Chris Colfer! Is there something you forgot to tell me?"

 

"I'm sure you've worked it out for yourself already, Darren. I was hoping if I ignored it, it would just go away."

 

"Yeah, right. I'm sorry to tell you that birthdays don't work that way. Now go and get that present that's sitting in the hallway, and open the damn thing."

 

Chris did as he was instructed. "They're from my family," he explained as he opened the box to reveal several wrapped presents from everyone back home.

 

"And where are they?"

 

"Clovis." Darren stared blankly, shaking his head. No one ever seemed to have heard of Clovis. "Near Fresno?" Chris tried instead.

 

That, Darren knew. "Chris, if we leave now, you can be there before dinner."

 

"You're crazy."

 

"And that's why you love me," Darren replied, no idea how true that statement was becoming. He grabbed Chris's box out from under him. "Come on, go get a jacket, it'll be late when we get back."

 

"You're not serious."

 

"Oh... I'm deadly serious. I'll be leaving for Clovis in five minutes. With or without you."

 

"That's nearly a four hour drive."

 

"All the more reason you should come along and keep me company."

 

Chris rolled his eyes, realizing he was fighting a losing battle. "There are bottles of water in the refrigerator. Grab a couple and I'll meet you out by the car."

 

"Yes!" Darren fist pumped the air in victory.

 

They'd only been on the road for a short while when Darren pulled aside to a small group of shops. "Just a minute, I need to get something."

 

He returned less than five minutes later with something that looked suspiciously like a cake box.

 

"You didn't," Chris said incredulously.

 

"I did, but don't go thanking me yet. I had to take whatever they had in stock." He passed the box to Chris, allowing him to peek inside. It was iced in white and bright blue, and on top was an icing cut-out of Buzz Lightyear, declaring "Happy birthday, Space Ranger!"

 

Chris laughed. "It's perfect. Thank you."

 

"You're welcome, Space Ranger," Darren replied with his best Buzz impression and a wink, eliciting more laughter from Chris. Darren took the box and put it on the back seat away from the sunlight, then turned on the air conditioner to keep the car cool enough that the icing wouldn't melt on the long drive ahead of them. "Right. Let's go!"

 

~*~

 

"Best birthday, ever!" Chris declared as they got back in the car later that night for the return trip to LA.

 

"Well, now I don't feel so bad about not getting you a present."

 

"That was the best present I could have asked for. It's been years since I spent my actual birthday with my family. I didn't realize how much I really needed that." Chris reached for his seatbelt and clipped it in.

 

Darren grinned. "They're great. I had a lot of fun."

 

"You do realize that you've ruined the whole meet-the-family thing for anyone I try to bring home, don't you."

 

Darren gave a bashful smile. "Moms, they just love me, what can I say?"

 

"You're too damn charming for your own good, that's what you are. You use flattery and those long eyelashes like lethal weapons."

 

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Chris?" Darren asked with a laugh. "You're just mad because I got the last roast potato."

 

"Just shut up and drive, Darren," he pouted. "It was my birthday, that potato should have been mine."

 

"I let you have Buzz Lightyear's crotch didn't I?"

 

Chris playfully made a swipe at Darren. "Yes you did... and with the way you announced it to the table, I know I'm never gonna live that one down."

 

"Best birthday ever, right?"

 

Chris smiled and looked over at Darren who had his eyes on the road ahead, navigating his way toward the highway. "Yeah, best birthday ever," he replied sleepily, and with a yawn he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. He was asleep before they even left the Clovis city limits.

 

For three and a half hours, Darren periodically glanced across to his right to check on Chris who slept soundly through every traffic light and interchange. The lamplights high above the roadside cast a golden hue on his skin and, with the serene expression on his sleeping face, he truly looked like an angel. It warmed Darren right to the core to know that he had a hand in putting that relaxed, soft smile on Chris's face. He wanted to keep doing that, as often as possible.

 

It was well after midnight when they pulled up outside of Chris's house. With a gentle shake of the shoulder, Darren tried to wake Chris up. It took a few attempts to get him to stir, but finally a sleepy Chris rubbed his eyes. "We're home?"

 

"Yes, we're home. Let's get you inside and into a nice comfortable bed." Darren opened the car door wide for him to step out, then gathered Chris's box of presents and followed him to the front door. They walked through to the kitchen where Chris put his keys down on the counter, and Darren placed the box onto the dining table.

 

"Thank you for everything, Darren. I had a really wonderful day." Chris's sleepy eyes were almost watery and Darren could see he was too overwhelmed at that moment to say more. He closed the distance between them and drew Chris into an enveloping hug. This time there was no hesitation or stiffness, Chris was soft and pliant and fell into the hug easily, his arms wrapping around Darren and holding him close. Whether it was tiredness or all the emotion of the day, Darren didn't know, but it felt like the all of Chris's defenses were down and he was finally getting to see the real Chris Colfer.

 

"You're welcome, Chris. That's what friends are for." And that's when it struck him. In the space of less than a month, Chris had become so much more than a colleague. He was one of his dearest friends.


	7. Chapter 7

Chris was no stranger to unrequited crushes. In a world where the majority of the male population preferred the soft curves of the female body, it was a one aspect of the status quo that he had gotten used to. It didn't stop him appreciating a handsome face though, or a taut body, or the golden soul that laid within, but a little distance always made those things manageable.

 

And that's how it had been with Darren. His gorgeous eyes, infectious smile and unfairly charming manner were a lethal combination, but Chris managed the situation by keeping things professional. He kept the conversation light and fairly trivial when they deviated from their work. They didn't hang out together beyond the four days a week that they were together for the musical and at the end of each day, Chris held his tongue, not daring to make known his desire to have Darren stay for dinner or curl up on the sofa and watch the next episode of Downton with him. No. Chris stayed quiet and Darren went home to eat dinner and watch TV in his own apartment.

 

But all of that effort was for nothing. In the space of one day, Darren had sent Chris's walls tumbling down with one insane road trip and a birthday cake. It didn't matter what tools he used though, it had the effectiveness of a sledge hammer. Chris was tired of fighting, and he didn't have the strength to build those walls back up again.

 

So, on a Thursday morning, the day after Chris Colfer turned 25, a new chapter began in Darren and Chris's relationship.

 

Darren was late and normally that would have had Chris worried, but he knew well that Darren could not have gotten to sleep before 2am, and he definitely deserved to rest after all he had done. It was just after ten when Darren came to the door, with a take-out cup holder containing two tall cups.

 

"Here, this one's for you." He said, taking one and passing it to Chris as he walked through the door. "It's from the Juice Bar at the end of my street, they call it a 'Revive' cocktail. I have no idea what's in it, but it will give you energy for hours."

 

Chris sucked on the straw, drawing the fruity concoction into his mouth and swirling it across his tongue in an attempt to decipher its secrets. He could taste the tang of ginger and refreshing mint, but they disguised the subtle sweet flavors of the fruit, and he couldn't get any further. "Mmmmmm. Delicious."

 

"Yeah, after yesterday, a pot of tea was just not going to do the trick. We need to get productive and make up for lost time."

 

"We didn't make a lot of progress, did we? But I still had a lot of fun."

 

"I don't know, Chris, I think we made plenty of progress." Chris's chest constricted at the implication. Had Darren realized the internal struggle Chris was dealing with? "460 miles of progress according to my odometer."

 

The tension flowed out of Chris almost instantly. "Yeah, it's quite a drive. You'll have to let me pay you back for gas."

 

"No way! A tank of gas and a Buzz Lightyear birthday cake are the most inspired gifts I've ever given someone. I'm not letting you take that away from me, Colfer."

 

"Fine, but just you wait 'til your birthday, I'll pay you back with interest."

 

"Bring it, Colfer." Darren challenged. "You'll be pushed hard to beat my effort. I mean, you got to eat Space Ranger cock! Who wouldn't love that?"

 

"Really, Darren?" Chris raised one eyebrow, questioning his choice of words.

 

Surprisingly Darren didn't backtrack. Instead, he grinned wickedly, "I've always had a thing for lasers," he explained with a wink.

 

Chris laughed aloud, bright and clear and it echoed through the expanse of the hallway. "Remind me to show you my Star Wars collection sometime," Chris teased, his voice low and sultry, but his smile giving away his playful intention.

 

"Oh my god, Chris!" Darren was doubled over with the hilarity of the back and forth innuendo. "Now where is the woman who will woo with me Star Wars pick up lines like that?"

 

"She doesn't exist. You're destined to live a sad existence with your wife and 2.5 kids, and your laser fetish will forever go unfulfilled."

 

That set the tone for their new developing friendship. They had a lot of fun together. They were teasing, playful and sometimes flirty, and Chris found that most of the time he could shrug it off without a second thought. His attraction had a safe outlet and he no longer guarded his words as closely. He also made an effort to share more with Darren, including the story of his childhood and how The Land of Stories had been his refuge from the realities he had to escape.

 

The more time they spent together, the easier Chris found it to open up. Finally he dared to speak of his string of failed relationships and his desperate hope that somewhere there was a man who would love him enough to put up with all the bullshit that comes with fame.

 

As it turned out, Darren had troubles of his own to share. "I'm not asking for a lot here, Chris," Darren lamented one Monday morning after a disastrous date with a girl he had met at the local music store. "I just need someone who believes in me and my abilities. Someone who will support, encourage and inspire me."

 

 _Someone like me_ , Chris's treacherous mind offered. He pushed the thought aside.

 

"Can't they get to know me before writing me off? I am _not_ a small time musician with zero prospects."

 

"You've got so much talent, Darren. If she can't see that, then it's her loss. One day your name will be in lights and she'll be buying a magazine with your face on the cover. She'll see what a huge mistake she made."

 

"See! That's what I'm talking about! Where can I find someone as awesome as you?"

 

"Sorry," Chris replied putting his arm around Darren's shoulder and giving him a friendly squeeze, "I'm one of a kind. But if you ever decide to switch teams, you know where to find me."

 

"You know what's sad, Chris?" Darren asked as he put his empty tea cup in the sink and walked alongside Chris as they move to their work room.

 

"What, Darren?"

 

"That's probably the best offer I've had all year."

 

That was the day Chris finally jumped the last hurdle and invited Darren to stay for dinner. "We can open a bottle of wine and drown our dating sorrows."

 

"You know?" Darren responded, "That's exactly what I need today."

 

And so they found themselves on Chris's sofa that evening, in front of their third episode of Downton Abbey, and their second bottle of wine. It was getting late, and Chris was wondering whether Darren would still be OK to drive, given all they'd had to drink.

 

"Would you mind if I took the couch tonight?" Darren asked, as if reading his mind. "I probably shouldn't drive home now."

 

"You don't need to take the couch, Dare. I have a guest room upstairs, you can sleep there."

 

"You're the best, man." He gave Chris a hug but instead of moving away as he ended it, he left his head nestled on Chris's shoulder. "One more episode?"

 

"Just one, then we'd better get some sleep. We really need to sort out those lyrics for Mira's song tomorrow."

 

"Hmmm," came Darren's reply, and that sleepy answer should have been Chris's warning that Darren wouldn't make it through the entire episode. Only ten minutes in, Darren's head sank deeper into his shoulder as he lost consciousness.

 

Chris turned off the TV and stirred Darren gently. "Come on Sleeping Beauty, let's get you to bed.

 

Darren stood, only half awake, and followed Chris around the ground floor as he turned out lights and checked the doors were locked. Chris then led him to the guest room, pointing out the bathroom on the way. "If there's anything you need, I'm at the end of the hall." He laid a soft kiss on Darren's forehead before leaving. "Good night, Darren."

 

"Goodnight, Chris. And thank you." Chris probably assumed he was referring to dinner, or the offer of the bed. But in the two months that Darren had known Chris, not once had he been invited to stay after their work was done, a fact that was not lost on him. And despite having spent countless weeks in that very house, it was the first time Chris had allowed him into the private space of his second level. It felt like a rite of passage, being gifted with Chris's trust and friendship, and for that, Darren would forever be thankful.


	8. Chapter 8

"Chris, come here, I need your help." Chris looked up from his laptop and Darren slid up his piano stool, patting the empty space beside him.

 

"What?"

 

"I need you to come sing with me."

 

"Why? You've done perfectly fine on your own until now."

 

"Just shut up and do as you're told, Colfer. This is our pivotal song. I've got two of the three parts complete and I need to hear how they sound together."

 

"Just a minute," Chris sighed in resignation and finished the line he was writing before hitting save, a habit he had wisely formed while writing his first book. He took his place on the stool beside Darren and looked at the sheet music in front of them.

 

Darren started playing the introduction and Chris followed the notes Darren had meticulously marked onto the paper. As Snow White's part approached, he opened his mouth and let his voice carry her words over Darren's accompaniment.

 

Darren stopped playing immediately. "What are you doing?"

 

"Singing," Chris replied indignantly. "What did it sound like?"

 

"No, you idiot. What were you doing singing my part? You're supposed to be Mira."

 

"Oh, sorry. I just assumed." For most of Glee, he had been given songs that were meant for a female voice. He had fallen into the habit again without thinking.

 

"You've heard my Britney and Katy Perry! I get the girl's part. I thought it would be obvious."

 

"Sorry, it won't happen again." Chris laughed and poked his tongue out at Darren.

 

"Damn right it won't." Darren warned, though they both knew his threat was empty. He pointed to the score and Chris immediately recognized the verses he'd written to voice Mira's fading memory. "This is where you come in."

 

"Got it!"

 

Darren hit a few buttons on the console of the keyboard.

 

"Are you recording this?"

 

"Yes. I need it to help me with the final part. Now, shhhhhh."

 

Darren played the intro again, then started singing a sweet clear melody of purity and childhood innocence. Chris joined in on cue, singing Mira's words of love for the beautiful queen on the other side of the glass. Their voices combined as the notes danced around each other gracefully. With each verse, the intensity grew. Snow White was more desperate for the love of the only mother she knew, and Mira's tune changed, becoming more somber as his awareness of his old life faded. In the final refrain, the complete frustration of both characters reached a thrilling crescendo and Chris threw his arms around Darren and hugged him tight.

 

"It's absolutely perfect! I love it! I can only imagine how beautiful it will be with Evly there too."

 

"Thanks." Darren said quietly as he hugged back, feeling the emotion in Chris's embrace. "That's left me kind of exhausted. Do you think we could call it a day now?"

 

"After that, I think I'm incapable of doing anything else. I'll just sit here in stunned silence and you can take off."

 

Darren gave Chris one last squeeze and then pulled out of Chris's arms.

 

He took the digital storage card out of his keyboard and packed it with the rest of his things to go home.

 

"Oh, you doing anything for the Fourth of July?" Darren added casually as he gathered the last of his things.

 

"Probably just hanging about here? Why?"

 

"I've got the night off and I was going to head up the coast, sit on the beach and enjoy everyone else's fireworks. You're welcome to come, I'll even throw in a few beers. And before you give me that pale skin excuse, we won't be heading out until late, so you don't need to worry about burning in the heat of the summer sun."

 

"I don't really have a choice, do I?"

 

"Not really." Darren smiled coyly. "It'll be a night to remember!"

 

"Promises, promises!" Chris laughed. "But actually, that sounds good. I'm in."

 

Darren picked Chris up at five on the Saturday for the trip up to Ventura. They pulled in to a diner on the way and had a hamburger dinner, which had them arriving at Emma Wood State Beach right on sunset. The sky was still bright, but golden and pink hues filled the sky as the sun made its way into the sea.

 

"As close as we live to the ocean, I really don't take the time to see this spectacle often enough." Chris noted, spreading a towel out on a clear sandy spot and planting himself on top of it. Darren dropped down next to him, sharing what space was left. Chris looked at him, puzzled. "You forgot to bring a towel?"

 

"No. But why get two of them sandy if we don't have to?"

 

They sat in silence then, watching the sun make its decent, painting the sky with a million beautiful colors in its wake. Finally it dipped beyond the ocean and there was nothing left but to watch the colors fade to black as the night took over.

 

Darren started humming, a new tune that Chris hadn't heard before. "Is that one of ours?" He asked curiously?

 

"It's Mira's first song, the love sonnet that wins Evly's heart."

 

"It sounds beautiful. Can I hear it?"

 

Darren stood up, as if to leave, and Chris stared at him, confused.

 

"My guitar's in the trunk. I'll be back."

 

It was the first time Chris had seen Darren play the guitar, and now that he heard the delicate tune being plucked from its strings, he wondered why Darren didn't use it more often. The sound was gentle in the cool evening breeze, almost harmonizing with nature itself. Then Darren sang softly, words that Chris recognized as his own, but for a few small changes to fit the timing of the notes. When he came to the end, Darren had added another verse.

 

 _You're my one and my only, my soul's perfect pair_  
 _And I'll never be wanting so long as you're there_  
You're the one that I pray for at the end of the night  
You're my reason for breathing, my reason for life.

 

If Chris could have put the perfect love into words, then that's exactly how he would have said it himself.

 

Darren put the guitar down, waiting to hear Chris's thoughts, but Chris didn't move. "Do you like it."

 

Again, Chris said nothing, but he nodded slowly. He turned his head toward Darren and there were tears in his eyes. "That's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard." Then his lips began to tremble and he let out a loud sob.

 

"Chris?"

 

Chris wiped at his eyes willing the tears to stop, but they had an agenda of their own. "I don't know what's gotten into me!" he laughed between sobs. "You moved me, Darren. It was just so beautiful."

 

"Here," Darren offered, opening his arms to comfort Chris. "I don't have a handkerchief in my pocket, but you're welcome to slobber on my T-shirt."

 

Chris chuckled again through his dying sobs. "Thanks." He said simply, and fell against Darren's chest.

 

Darren held Chris to him gently, his fingers catching in Chris's hair and lingering there with soothing strokes. Chris looked up, startled, or questioning, Darren wasn't sure which. But the fading light cast a soft warm light on his skin and his eyes seemed dark, wide and so brutally honest.

 

That's what Darren will always remember about that moment. Chris's eyes, pleading for more, and in that moment, all Darren wanted to do was give. He lowered his lips to Chris's and kissed them, gently at first; barely a whisper, then with more assurance as he heard Chris's breath hitch and felt fingers grip tight on his back.

 

It wasn't like any kiss Darren had experienced before. It was raw and emotional, and the lips that kissed his were powerful and determined. The soft scratch of stubble was definitely new, but not unwelcome. He leaned back, pulling Chris with him until his head fell into the soft beach sand, all the while his lips never leaving Chris's.

 

Chris pulled back then, and Darren immediately opened his eyes as his lips met nothing but the cool night air. "What are we doing, Darren?"

 

"I don't know. But it felt right, and I don't want to stop. Do you?

 

Chris didn't answer, he climbed onto Darren, pinning him down and then kissed him with real fervor. Darren's hands explored the body above him, mapping out the planes of his broad shoulders, tracing his slim waist, and delighting in the curve that lead to a perfect supple ass. His hands came to rest there, cupping each lobe firmly until Chris relaxed completely against him, their bodies joined from head to foot as they lost themselves in the closeness of the kiss.

 

When they parted a second time, the sky above them was dark, and the stars were scattering across the night. "Was this what you meant when you promised me a night to remember?"

 

"No!" He didn't want Chris to think he'd planned out an elaborate seduction scene. "I know it all seems rather convenient, but I just wanted to take you away from it all so you could enjoy some fresh air and actually relax a little."

 

"You promised beer, too."

 

"So I did. Do you want to stay here, or go back to the car?"

 

"Here's good. I'll straighten out this towel while you're gone." They both got to their feet, and while Darren took his guitar back to the car, Chris adjusted his towel and then laid out Darren's next to his own so that they would have more room.

 

Darren returned quickly with a six pack of beer. Chris wasn't a great drinker of beer, but at that time, any form of liquid courage was welcome. Darren sat close, their shoulders touching, and his hand behind Chris's back, so close to his ass, Chris could feel the warmth, but not the touch.

 

Chris leaned into Darren, but no more. Things felt too fragile, like one push in the wrong direction and Darren would be gone. He couldn't bear the consequences of that.

 

"Chris?"

 

"Yeah?" he replied cautiously.

 

Darren swallowed a few large mouthfuls of beer, as if the lubrication would help the words flow easier. "There was a resort back on the main road. Do you wanna see if they have a room?"

 

"Yes," he breathed in answer, though it felt more like a prayer or a wish than a confirmation.


	9. Chapter 9

Chris paid for the room, but after that, he let Darren call the shots. They showered separately, washing away the beach sand that could make any later activities painful. When Chris has finished he came back to find Darren in bed with just his underwear on. "Come join me."

 

Chris crawled beneath the sheets and Darren flicked the light switch, instantly darkening the room but for the lamplight glow that filtered softly in through the curtains. "Are you sure, Darren?"

 

"No, I'm not. But I'm not going to over-think things, and it would be good if you could do the same. Stay in the moment and we'll see what happens next." And with that he kissed Chris again, steady and sure, and Chris could do nothing but ride the wave wherever it took them.

 

~*~

 

The following morning they woke to a knock announcing the arrival of room service. Darren jumped up out of bed, grabbed one of the complimentary robes and answered the door.

 

"You ordered room service?" Chris asked sleepily, head still buried mostly beneath the covers.

 

"There was an order form hanging on the door. I thought you might appreciate breakfast in bed?" He brought the tray containing juice, pancakes and a pot of tea over to Chris.

 

Chris took one look and smiled up at him. "You thought right!"

 

"It's the least I could do." Darren picked up an extra fork and joined Chris in attacking the stack of chocolate chip pancakes.

 

Chris had been the perfect gentleman. Gentle and tender, letting Darren lead the way and never pushing for more than he could give. The more Darren thought about it, the more he knew he should have been freaking out. But he wasn't. It was kissing and rutting, the likes of which he hadn't indulged in since he was a teenager. Late into the night they discarded their soiled underwear and just laid together, wrapped up in one another until they fell asleep.

 

Was he gay? Definitely not. Bi? Maybe. Or maybe it was just one of those experimental things that he should have gotten out of the way while he was still in college. Anyway, Darren wasn't going to put any labels on it. At the time, it felt right and that was all that mattered. And if other moments happened, well, he'd work through them too. There was no need to analyze things to death.

 

Chris on the other hand was freaking out. Was this a one-time experiment? Would Darren even be interested in a relationship? Had he just ruined a lifetime's work with a moment of weakness?

 

On the drive home, it was Darren that raised the topic first, much to Chris's relief. "So, that was pretty unexpected."

 

"I'll say," Chris replied tentatively. He'd worked himself up into such a state, he didn't trust himself to say anything more.

 

"And amazing. Chris, you were just amazing. But I don't know if-"

 

Chris cut him short, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence he knew would be painful. "I agree. We shouldn't have done it. It was a mistake." Strangely, it sounded no better in his own voice.

 

Darren steeled his expression, hiding the shock and the hurt that Chris's words caused. "Right," he muttered softly, letting the reality sink in. The thing was, it didn't feel like a mistake at all until Chris had uttered those words.

 

Darren dropped Chris off at his house. "So, business as usual tomorrow?" He asked, checking that at least something was salvageable from the mess they were in.

 

"Sure. See you then." Chris walked into his house without looking back, and no sooner had he closed the door, he crumpled to the floor.

 

Darren drove the rest of the way home nearly blinded by his own tears.

 

~*~

 

Monday morning was exactly as promised; business as usual.

 

Darren turned up precisely at nine. Chris poured two cups of tea which they actually drank at their desks instead of the kitchen. They discussed the final songs and the closing act, agreeing that the show would end with a reprise of Mira's love song. The very song that had ruined everything.

 

They worked almost silently, except for the tinkling of notes from the keyboard as Darren plotted the changes to the music that brought the story full circle. Instead of providing the rhythm by which Chris worked, it became a huge distraction. Chris resorted to headphones to stop the constant echo of that haunting song in his ears. It worked, and he actually made good progress.

 

By Thursday they were almost done. Chris's script needed only a little additional stage direction and Darren only had to pen Evly's part to Mira and Snow White's song in order to wrap up the first act on an emotional high.

 

They said courteous goodbyes as their working week ended and both breathed a sigh of relief when Chris's front door was closed between then.

 

The following week continued the trend. The mood was strictly professional, almost icy, and Darren was finding it impossible to get his mind on the task. He tried in vain to capture the tone and intensity he needed to portray Evly's slide into crazed desperation. The harder he tried, the more frustrated he got, until he threw his pencil to the floor and stormed out without another word.

 

That night, Darren received a text-

From Chris: We've been working hard, I think you need a break. Take the week off and I'll see you next Monday.

 

If only a week off could solve all their problems.

 

Still, Darren took Chris's advice and stepped away from the project for the first time in almost three months. He went home to San Francisco to spend some time with his parents. Getting back to his roots always helped put things back into perspective.

 

Except this time it didn't.

 

Chris called Ashley. She came immediately and stayed the week listening to Chris go over and over the events of that fateful weekend and never coming up with an answer that gave him peace. They ate ice cream and baked cookies, a sure fire cure for everything.

 

None of it helped.

 

Darren returned to Chris's place as scheduled the following Monday, though his thoughts were just as muddy as ever. The notes he once heard in his head were almost a faded memory, and he couldn't put into words the heartbreak Evly might feel watching her true love slip away.

 

He sat at the keyboard, willing some kind of inspiration to strike, or Devine intervention to take over and supply him with a completed score. After an hour he gave up. "I need to take a walk, I'll be back in a bit," he said over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

 

When he came back, Chris was waiting for him. "Come to the kitchen." A fresh pot of tea was waiting, and Darren watched as Chris poured it out into their two cups. This was always the way they communicated best.

 

Chris pushed the cup across to Darren, who issued a polite thank you.

 

And then there was silence.

 

Darren waited for Chris to formulate whatever intervention he had planned. He'd tried to lay things on the line before, and look where that had got him.

 

"Look," Chris started nervously, "I know we screwed things up the other weekend, and I don't think there's anything I can do to fix that now. But I still believe in you. We've still got our deal, and I know you're the only one who can do Evly justice."

 

"I'm blocked, Chris." Darren's voice wavered with emotion and exhaustion. "It's torturing me. I know how it should be, but the notes won't come, and I can't put those emotions to words. I don't know how to get around it."

 

"Well, keep trying!" Chris cried out in frustration. "It's just another fucking song, Darren."

 

"What do you think I'm doing?" Darren shouted back. His hands gripped the tea cup so tightly it could have shattered at any minute.

 

"You're doing nothing but sit there, looking at the keys." Tears were beginning to stream down Chris's face with the anger and sheer frustration of it all. "This is no different to the other nineteen songs you've already written. Just sit down, concentrate and get the fucking thing down on paper so we can both put this horrible episode behind us and move on with our lives!"

 

Darren wasn't even aware he'd let go of the cup until he heard the loud smash as it hit the tiles and splintered into a thousand pieces. He ignored the sting of the almost boiling liquid as it soaked through the bottom half of his jeans, turned around and marched straight back to the front door. "You want your life back? You've got it! And don't worry about your song. I'll get it to you, and you won't even have to see my face ever again."

 

Chris listened as Darren got in his car and drove away, the tires squealing on the asphalt. He stood there amongst the debris, numb and unable to move, though every fiber of his being wanted to chase him and beg him to stay.


	10. Chapter 10

Darren found the cure to his writers block the moment he pulled away from Chris's house. Elvy's sadness and desperation descended on him, taking over his heart. It ached so much that he understood her desire to have it ripped out and turned to stone. He wished he could do the same. The elusive symphony he'd been searching for rang clear in his ear, as if he were listening to it on his own stereo, and it didn't matter that he had neither keyboard nor paper, those notes would haunt him for the rest of his life.

 

Chris was gone and the grief was unlike anything he'd experienced before.  

 

The words took a little longer to develop, but every memory and emotion he tapped into revolved around Chris. The joy of finding a kindred spirit, the dizzy excitement of their first kisses on the beach, the tenderness with which Chris held him through the night and the bitter disappointment when he heard that word 'mistake'. He thought back to those last awful weeks where Chris had been right next to him, yet completely out of reach, and he realized Chris was his Mira, his soul's perfect pair, his reason to breathe.

 

He put it all in that song. All the joy, all the hurt, all the love and he completed it with the driven determination to get him back.

 

~*~

 

Chris looked out over the moonlit garden from the open window of his study; the desk, computer and lamp all back where they had been before Darren had moved into his life with his curly mop of hair, oversized keyboard and warm hugs. He breathed the dense August air deep into his lungs as he concentrated on the love he had for these characters, the ones he had carried with him for so long. They were his crutch, his escape, his lifeline. Now even more than ever.

 

It had been two weeks since he'd seen Darren and two weeks since he'd even looked at the unfinished script. That morning he woke early with the urgency and utter determination to finish it and put the past three months behind him.

 

Chris had been so caught up in the tap tap tap of his keyboard that he hadn't noticed the sun rise until it had moved into that annoying position in the sky where it reflected off his computer screen, making it impossible to read what he was typing. He'd adjusted his position, and continued on, taking just a few seconds to turn out the light that no longer offered any benefit.

 

He mulled over the final page of the musical's script - the final words that would close this chapter of his life, an epic journey over fifteen years in the making. He could hear the voice of young Evly delivering messages of paired souls, and reasons to live. If only he could believed in that kind of love himself.

 

Brian rubbed against Chris's legs where they were crossed beneath the desk, demanding his attention. Chris knew he had pushed his luck. It was almost midday, and the call of the food bowl usually drew him out by ten. It was probably the simple fact that Chris had not even ventured to the kitchen to top up the kibble, that allowed Brian to sleep on. The tell-tale tinkling of the crunchy treats hitting the bowl always had Brian running from the furthest reaches of the house within seconds.

 

Chris typed out the final stage and lighting direction,

 

_Evly stands enveloped in Mira's arms_   
_A heart shaped ruby red light casts their silhouette onto the curtain,_   
_The lighting fades slowing with the last verse of their duet._

 

He completed the exercise with a definitive _THE END_ , just as Brian let out a loud mew that voiced the end of his patience.

 

"Ok, Brian, let's go get something to eat," Chris said, pushing his chair back from the desk, searching for the sense of satisfaction or triumph that he had hoped for at this moment, but only finding emptiness . As he stood, he closed the lid of his laptop, the finality of the click echoing in his head. "What do you say to cream cheese bagels, big boy? I need some comfort food."

 

~*~

 

To: "Chris Colfer"

From: "Darren Criss"

Subject: Your song

Attachment: Holding on.mp3

 

Chris,

Close your eyes and listen. Please! And not just with your ears.

Darren xx

 

 

Chris was in his car when the email arrived and when he saw who it was from, he almost caused an accident in his rush to get off the road. With shaking hands he tapped to download the attachment, and waited. It was the longest minute of his life.

 

With his phone already docked, he only had to hit play to hear the song in full surround sound. It began with a familiar melody, one he had sung to over a month ago, Darren's voice sang the sweet lines of Snow White he now knew well, and then he was surprised to hear his own voice begin. Then a third tune wove them together in a way Chris would never have guessed, but it was as though all three were one song, bound together in knots that could never be undone. Chris listened, picking out Evly's voice and hearing her speak of the torment of love. Her words, Darren's words, heartbreaking as they were still captured all the joy, hope and devotion that Chris wished for.

 

He closed his eyes, shut off his mind and just listened. Darren's voice singing directly to him, entwining with his own voice so seamlessly, and making the most beautiful music together.

 

As it built to an incredible climax, Elvy's melody dominated, showing her complete devotion and utter determination to save Mira at any cost. It was more than music, it was more than harmony. That song was love, and Darren had created it all for him.

 

He changed his route and headed directly to the place the journey had begun, La Terrazza.

 

There was a free spot right outside and Chris didn't even hesitate, he pulled aside, right in front of the bank of photographers that camp there every Saturday night.

 

"Meeting someone special tonight, Mr Colfer?"

 

He looked them in the eye and smiled. "Yes, I'm meeting the love of my life." He was blinded by a chorus of flashes all going off at once, but it didn't faze him. He smiled happily then made his way to the front door.

 


	11. Chapter 11

June 2017

 

The black limousine ended its slow progression through the Manhattan streets and pulled up to the curb outside Radio City Music Hall. Darren and Chris were seated together in the back, sitting incredibly close though the palatial interior afforded them a lot more room. Their hands were linked firmly, clinging to one another in mutual support and a fair degree of nervousness.

 

Chris gave Darren's hand one final encouraging squeeze. "Are you ready?"

 

"As ready as I'll ever be." Darren answered with an unsure smile. Darren had tried out his red carpet game to a small extent at the opening of Heart of Stone, but that was a subdued affair compared to the Tony Awards.

 

"It's not that hard. Smile for the cameras, dazzle the reporters with your charm and wit, and in no time you'll have them eating out of the palm of your hand."

 

"Say's the guy who has always hated these red carpet events."

 

"It's much better when you don't have to do it alone." He patted Darren's knee and slid over to the opening door. "Let's go. Our Tony awaits."

 

Darren laughed. "Stop counting your chickens, Mister."

 

"No point going in with a defeatist attitude. Have faith, Darren. This project is our lucky charm."

 

~*~

 

Three hours later, Darren Criss and Chris Colfer took to the stage to collect their award for Best Musical. They stood hand in hand as Chris took the microphone first, rattling off the long list of people who deserved credit for their assistance along the way. "And finally, thank you so much to the Broadway community for embracing our little show and for welcoming us with open arms. Your love and support of Heart of Stone and our beloved Evly means the world to us."

 

Darren stepped forward, continuing right where Chris left off. "Like Evly, our writing process had its fair share of drama and heartbreak. There were moments of frustration and there were certainly times when we thought this project would never see the light of day, but we believed in Evly, and we believed in each other. It was Evly's devotion and love for Mira that finally brought about her happy ending. And as it turns out," he concluded, putting his arm around Chris's waist and pulling him close, "it helped us find ours, too."


End file.
